It Started With One
by The Wandering Muse
Summary: Kara Danvers is having a really bad day and Lena comes to the rescue. Starts at Post 2x06. A collection of stories and events that revolve around the lives of SuperCorp and the amazing Super Friends & Fam.
1. Chapter 1: It Started With One

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Supergirl or any of the characters.

 **A/N:** Cross-Posted from AO3. Set in post 2x06.

* * *

Sitting at the back in one of the booths, the blonde amuses herself with a rum and coke mixers. She has had a tiring day - nineteen hours to be precise. She sips her drink and recalls the last few days in resigned contemplation.

First, she forgets to interview one of the cops on duty the night of Parasite terrorized the streets of National City. Snapper Carr had taken one look at her article and thrown it back. "Get your cutesy bubble head back in the game, Danvers, or get out. Stop wasting my time. Find out who this tin can dude is. You have the next twenty-four hours."

"It's lead ac-," Kara blurts but holds her tongue when his beady eyes shift sideways towards the door. She leaves without so much as a retort, strangling the urge to laser his favorite holder of red the time she found the officer, she had had to change directions at least three times to stop a bank robbery, evacuate factory workers from a power plant that was about to explode, and to put out a forest fire.

She stops by Noonan's for a well-deserved sticky bun where she had intended to stay for an hour to re-edit the article on the mysterious Guardian, only to receive a ping ten minutes into devouring the overly sinful treat.

 _ **Hey Kara, is Mon-El with you?**_

 _No... Is he not at the DEO?_

 _ **I'm sure it's nothing, but he didn't return to the DEO, not that he has a curfew. Could you check Happy Hour for me, please? Hank is in, like, a suppperr good mood.**_

 _Sure... He's probably drunk-flirting with some fin chick._

xxx

Being a good superhero, Kara checks out Happy Hour and his ahem-not so desirable job. Both places turn up to be dead ends. M'gann comments that he hasn't shown up and the blue chick says she misses him.

She heads back to the DEO, stands with her back ramrod straight, jaw taut. She 'awwed' when the monitors show them the surveillance footage of Mon-El helping a homeless guy. Her heart swelled with pride, and then it shatters and her hands clench into fists, resisting the urge to slam them into something as this so-called pretender throws off the blanket and jabs her friend with high voltage cattle prods, and whisking him away in an unidentified van.

All Kara can feel is guilt gnawing at her. If she hadn't insisted Daxamite changing for the better, he wouldn't have been captured by the very people who had Jeremiah in custody. She follows the motions numbly as one of the Fort Razz's aliens toss DEO agents aside like rag dolls. She gets so distracted in the middle of the fight that she never saw the punch coming. He decks her straight in the gut; Kara grunts and swings wildly. The prisoner sidesteps her and grabs her cape from behind, and throws her through a wall.

It takes two times longer than she normally would apprehend him with reinforced specially designed cuffs. She slinks into the infirmary and slouches on one of the cots. Alex tends to her injuries silently and efficiently. There's no small chit chat between them. The tension was so thick. By the time, Kara finds the courage to say something, Alex has refocused her attention back to the microscope.

She exits the DEO and scours for all the possible locations that Cadmus would be but the search comes up empty. Of all the places to wind back in, Kara finds herself back at the bar, in her civilian clothes.

If Mon-El was here, he would be berating her for drinking human alcohol. She flags down M'gann and orders herself a glass of Aldebaranian rum. Kara swirls the yellow liquid around and then knocks it back. Light and floating. Ridden of the guilt, remorse, anger raging underneath.

One glass slowly turns to two, and soon she becomes one of the last few patrons. When she is told by M'gann to go home, she whines and pouts to no avail. M'gann threatens to call J'honn and Kara surrenders.

 _Hii. I_ nid _a flavor._

 _ **Hello Kara. Is something wrong?**_

 _I_ dont wnt _2b a bother but she's_ goin _to_ kik _me out_

 _ **Kara… are you drunk?~**_

 _ **Where are you now? I'm leaving the office**_

 _. Hapyhoourr_

 _ **I'm fifteen minutes out. Just hold on, alright Kara? I'm coming.**_

* * *

In a state of half-organized clutter, the slick pristine white desk with three drawers on the right-hand side, black swivel chair, Mac book Pro, and several pieces of paperwork filled with numerous reports litter the entire table. Her only companion in her stark office is a barely touched glass of red wine.

Letting a frustrated sigh, Lena Luthor flicks a page over and circles another figure on the report, her eyes flickering occasionally to the laptop. Her phone vibrates with a chime and she thinks of ignoring it in favor of finishing looking through this report. However, it's been a few hours of staring and frowning at the figures which weren't matching up.

She makes another note at the uppermost top and reaches for her phone. It's a text message from Kara Danvers.

Amused at the unusual text style coming from the cute blonde reporter, Lena hesitantly texts back in concern. It's not like Kara to send a sentence punctuated with mis-spellings and the millennials' version of shorthand - combining numbers with letters.

She pauses her texting and checks the time. What could Kara be possibly doing up at… 1 am?!

 _Kara… are you drunk?~_

Since meeting the adorable reporter, she has yet to see Kara inhaling any concoctions of alcohol. A burst of worry blooms up at the thought of Kara, bubbly and a dazzling smile ready at hand, possibly and quite probably drunk at a bar - alone, packed against nameless strangers with unknown intentions.

She types out another message and hits send without waiting for a reply. By the time, her phone chimes in with another message clearly stating that Kara Danvers is exactly where Lena has correctly deduced, her scattered paperwork is already stacked into a neat pile.

 _ **. Hapyhoourr**_

Striding out of the office, she makes her way towards the elevators whilst calling out to her assistant without so much a glance. "Jess, get me my driver."

She nods, barely hears the affirmation, and enters the elevator with panic already gripping her. Her thumbs fly rapidly across the screen. The thought of Kara drunk at a bar while some over-zealous perv decides to take advantage of her caring, understanding friend sends alarm bells ringing.

 _I'm fifteen minutes out. Just hold on, alright Kara? I'm coming._

xxx

She finds the nondescript place behind a closed warehouse factory and frowns in confusion. Of all the places in this city, she has to find Kara in this… sorry state of a graffitied, dingy shack bar. And when Lena bangs her fist at the metal bolted door, the metal grate reveals a grunt with three-eyes blinking back.

"Password," it snorts.

Lena stares blankly until the alien burps that she finds herself scrambling to get over the shock.

"Wait- Wait, I'm looking for my friend. Kara Danvers. Blonde. Wears glasses. Is this tall," she interrupts, gesturing with her hands.

Kara Danvers drunk in an alien bar sounds so much worse than she thought possible.

The metal grate shuts and then Lena hears the door unlocking and sliding open to reveal a dark-skinned woman, jet black hair tied up in a bun holding up Kara Danvers, slurring, pouting, and fidgeting in place.

"Here," the stranger says as a way of introducing herself.

"Kara," Lena breathes in a relief and then goes around the other side to prop Kara up. "My car's just straight ahead."

Kara turns her head and Lena nearly freezes in mid-step when the blonde shifts, tucking her face into her neckline.

A soft hum vibrates against her pale skin.

Lena writes it off as Kara - her friend - merely adjusting to the new addition (being her). Her hands grip Kara's right hip tighter. It has nothing to do with the warm ghosting of hot breath against her throat.

"You smell nice. Like reaallyy nice. What is it? Is- is that blackberry…?"

Lena's face burns which makes her glad for the dim street lights. Her car is just a few more steps ahead. She can gather whatever remaining composure she has left and rearranged her features to an impassive Luthor mask.

Glancing to the side where the helpful stranger - human but it could be an alien shapeshifter - she shouldn't judge; she clears her throat. "Out of curiosity, how many drinks has she already had?"

Kara's head snaps up so quickly that her forehead connects against Lena's jaw, and wow; the action sends her seeing stars.

"Only tree! Mmm, not drunk. I- I just feel like… I cann flyy."

Her sudden wild gesturing leaves them in a lurch as they both struggle to contain the over-enthusiastic journalist, stumbling in the middle.

The brunette seems amused and rather unbothered by Kara's behavior that it has Lena wondering if Kara is a regular. She shrugs, the corners of her lips tugging with a faint smile.

"Five."

Kara's eyes widen and darts her bright, radiant blue eyes towards her.

"I diiid nott! That- that's a lie. Leennaa, I swear to Rao, it just feeelsss soo good. Light annndd… flooatyy."

The brunette shakes her head. "Technically, if you were speaking of the different types of drinks you ordered, Kara, then yes; you ordered three different types but you literally tried to polish my half-finished tumbler of Al- uhm whiskey."

Suspicion creeps in and her brow crinkles in confusion and worry.

"But you hate whiskey."

She thinks back to all the times Kara has gone to her office and interviewed her; all those times Lena had offered her something stronger, Kara simply blushes, ducks her head, and shakes her head firmly. She knows all too well, the aftermath that comes with polished glass bottles and the self-loathing at the end.

It takes some teamwork and cooperative wrangling to get the one uncoordinated, rambling reporter into the backseat of her car.

"Thanks." Lena removes a wad of bills and gives them to the bartender.

"Oh no, this is too much. She didn't really order that much."

But Lena, insistent as ever, pushes them into the brunette's palm. "I insist. Please. Thank you for helping me with Kara."

She finally nods, to Lena's relief. "Just- make sure she gets home safe."

* * *

"Where to next, Miss Lena?"

The question startles the CEO out of contemplation as her fingers comb through the golden blonde locks. She bites her bottom lip in deep thought, frowning for a moment at the thought of bringing Kara back to her townhouse. It would only serve to complicate matters and she had no intentions of placing her only friend in National City into her world embroiled by scandals and tarnished history.

"Take us to Kara's apartment."

She's been to Kara's apartment once. It had been surprisingly easy to find one Kara Danvers on social media.

Since the dive bar was located on the other side of the town, the journey back to the reporter's place was a good twenty minutes with minimum traffic on the expressway. She feels the car roll to a stop and the car door swings open with Marcus waiting, attentive as ever.

Lena smiles and nudges her slumbering companion in the shoulder. "Kara sweetie, wake up. We're back at your apartment."

No matter how many nudges or sweet caressing attempts were made in favor, the blonde stayed curled up to the other side of the seat, snoring softly.

Just when she considers taking out her mist bottle to spray Kara's face, Marcus pipes in quietly, "I can carry her, Miss Lena. It wouldn't be a problem."

He goes around to the other side of the car while Lena steps out, grabbing both of their bags. Between a gentle reminder of "Careful, watch her head," and Marcus's quiet huffs, Lena hides a chuckle at his comment. "She's heavy for someone so slender and delicate."

xxx

She's unsure whether it's the elevator lights or the jerkiness that has Kara suddenly blinking owlishly at Marcus. Despite still being drunk on sleep and whatever she had earlier, Kara questions him anyway.

"Carle, is that you? Since when did you grow a mustache?"

Lena stares wide-eyed, observing the interaction. Marcus stammers, "I'm sorry, Miss Danvers. You- You have me uhm… mistaken for someone else. My name is Marcus, not Kale L."

Kara's peal of laughter is light as cotton candy and it ricochets off all four walls in the elevator. She fidgets with her glasses and then to her driver's increasing discomfort, Kara decidedly wraps her arms around his neck.

"Nu-huh. Are you Superman? Lena, why is Superman not wearing his suit?"

She doesn't stop to wait for a response because Kara strange whispers cause Marcus to stammer a negative, his dark expressive eyes darting back at Lena helplessly.

"Are you working undercover? It must be a big operation. This is so cool. What are you roleplaying as? Can I join too?"

That was it. Lena lets loose a soft chuckle that grows at the sight of her driver trying to manage the blonde reporter in his arms. She places her arm on Kara's forearm. "Kara, this is Marcus, my chauffeur."

xxx

Lena feels like she's intruding after fumbling for the light switch in the apartment. They are friendly, warm, and inviting - a sharp contrast to her own; cold, stylish, professional like they came straight out of a furniture catalog. It probably did. She never really found the time to decorate since the re-branding of L-Corp and repairing the reputation were far more important than something so trivial.

She admires Kara's wide open windows as soft pastel curtains billow and flutter about. Envious because she has to guard her privacy from peeping toms. She avoids the windows, preferring to draw the curtains to prevent any assassination attempts on her life always making sure all her windows are tinted and bulletproof.

Kara's place is small but it looks and feels so homely, with scattered colored cushions and little cute trinkets parked at the corners of the shelves. Photographs of her as a child with her sister, Alex. There are more photos of Kara smiling brightly with her friends - the short tech guy - Winn and the reputable Jimmy Olsen. Lena tries not to think of her own photo frames placed down and hidden in the desk drawers.

Marcus decides Kara is awake now, probably still very drunk, but not in need of being carried. Lena thanks him and sends him off. He leaves her with a puppy version of drunk Kara Danvers, who has decided this was the best time to have ice cream and pizza in the middle of the night.

Lena sighs and rolls up her sleeves after giving up on the inevitable that Kara is not any person who will obediently drink cups of water or head to the bathroom to vomit. She goes into the bedroom and finds some clothes that are comfier than her own office attire. When she returns, she discovers that her friend has finally passed out on the couch with a melting ice cream carton slanted sideways in her hand. Lena cleans up the living area as best as she can and tries one last time to get Kara into bed, who mumbles the oddest things in her sleep.

She succeeds, but just barely.

Hauling Kara up from the couch and dragging her into the bedroom robs Lena of the last vestiges of her strength. Kara merely grunts and rolls over in bed, her glasses smashed against the pillow. Lena quirks a tiny smile and reaches over to ply the glasses away from Kara's face. It's so strange to know Kara is always so meticulous and tidy, yet the lens of her glasses say the complete opposite. They're chocked full of fingerprints and dirt marks. How is it possible to even see clearly through them?

Unless... she doesn't need them.

Glancing over to Kara snoring quietly, she tugs the hair band until it's almost loose and lets out a soft gasp.

"There she is."

Her only friend in National City, who has taken a chance with her, is the very same super heroine guarding it. Supergirl has been right under her nose and all it takes a pair of glasses and a ponytail, not to mention the cute, adorable outfits she piles on.

And then, everything clicks. The drunken silliness in the elevators. Superman is her cousin. She has always assumed that if Kara Danvers wasn't writing about L-Corp, she was writing about Supergirl. In every news article, Kara has undoubtedly captured the action in each of her articles. It always felt like she was right there, thick in the action when reading the story. And the reporter ducks her head at the compliment and comments saying that she just has very good sources.

She should have realized it back then, at the gala, meeting with Kara and her sister, Agent Danvers. How close they stood together; how Kara and Supergirl are never in the same room. She had her friend Winn distract Lena, just so she could change into Supergirl; or how both people have the same circle of friends that she constantly sees.

Lena's bone-tired fatigue finally hits her. It's the middle of the night. Carefully, she takes the other end of the bed and curls up next to Kara. She's known Kryptonians run much hotter than humans do, through Lex's detailed notes. However, she never thought she would experience it firsthand. She's like a human furnace. Warm like the morning sun, wrapping around her body whenever she goes for a jog.

xxx

She dreams of sunflowers and picnics, of puppies chasing and playing on top of a hillside. The younger version of herself and Lex teaching her how to fly a kite. Birds chirp in the background and then a quiet click pops up of nothing. Lex is still talking but Lena hears the soft pitter-patter of footsteps coming closer.

The gentle rustling of leaves fades and melt away, leaving Lena the sense of waking up from a nice dream. She stirs and opens her eyes.

It's morning. Lena sees the soft glow of sunlight greeting her, as well as the cold barrel of the pistol aimed at her head.


	2. Chapter 2: Two Good to be True (part 1)

_A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. I don't really know how many chapters it's going to have, so just bear with me and see where this leads to. I'm open to suggestions if anyone likes to share :) Without further ado..._

* * *

The aching in her skull ebbs and flows like a cold tidal wave. 'Oh, this feels like post-Myriad.' Kara thinks, heavy leaden limbs struggle against the duvet till they find the edge of the mattress. She finds her footing despite her disorientation and in her line of sight, a bright pink box rests on the island counter. She's one foot out of her bedroom when realization hits and her forehead crinkles. One, she's not in her pajamas; and two, she catches a whiff of perfume and flowers. But she can't focus on anything except her rumbling, empty stomach.

Desperate hands clutch the bright pink box, nearly tearing it open in a haste. Canoles. Her favorite. She woofs one down, followed swiftly with three more. She sees Alex leaning against the kitchen countertop, watching her with an indiscernible expression.

"Good morning to you too," Alex smirks wryly.

Kara groans, "Ugh. Don't talk so loud. My ears are ringing. Is this what a hangover feels like?"

She sees Alex's lips move more than she hears it. "Want to tell me what happened last night?"

"Last night was a mistake. It was supposed to be one drink but I guess between Snapper and Mon-El still missing, I just wanted to try what being drunk feels like. You always drown yourself with work and alcohol, and you know human liquor doesn't work on me. It was a whim. One-time."

Kara stops dead in her rambling - stares, wide-eyed at Alex who immediately straightens. "What?"

"What time is it?"

Alex frowns but replies, "12:34 pm."

 _Shit._ Her article. "I have to go!"

She speeds back into her bedroom, grabbing a new set of attire, slamming the bathroom door close and zipping out of there in a span of less than two minutes. She grabs her laptop and remembers at the last minute not to crush it in her hands. She takes a breath and exhales. The last thing she wants is a broken laptop to start her day.

"Kara! Where are you go-?"

"I need to go. Catco. Snapper's going to skin me!" she rushes, heading towards the door.

"Glasses, Kara!"

She touches her face briefly and zips back into the bedroom for it, missing Alex's exasperated look. "I knew that and thanks for picking me up from the bar! Love you."

xxxx

Snapper plucks her freshly-printed article from her, tossing barely a glance. "You're four hours past the deadline, Ponytail." He doesn't wait for an answer, flipping through the pages, his beady eyes roving critically at the words. "This is going on tomorrow's cover." He takes off his glasses and glares up at her. "Since you can't bother coming in punctually like everyone else, I want a piece on parking violations rising."

She doesn't move. Snapper snaps at her, "Why are you still standing here?! Go bake!"

"I thought I was on the Guardian case?"

"Not anymore. Pewter earned it," he snaps brusquely.

She leaves CatCo, head still pounding and still no sign of the internal drums ceasing for a brief respite. She stops a mugging at the jewelry store, tackling him to the pavement, and then punching into the concrete harder than she intended, scaring the burglar so much that he raised his hands in surrender.

She doesn't have to wait long for the wailing sirens and flashing lights to arrive. Maggie Sawyer swims in her vision as Kara struggles to stand tall and upright, one hand firmly grabbing onto the burglar's cuffed hands. On any day, she would have basked in the sun but today, she cannot stand being under the yellow sun. Its presence just makes her headache worse.

Sawyer takes the masked man away, handing him off to one of the officers before turning back to Kara. Her dark brow arches and Kara forces her face to a blank expression. "You okay, Supergirl?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

Maggie looks at her and then to the fist-like hole in the pavement. "It's normal to have a bad day. Everyone gets them."

Kara takes a step back. The NCPD detective stands too close to her. She smells strongly of gunpowder and smoke. The combination assaults her sense of smell, overwhelming her. Kara falters slightly and Maggie catches her, steadying the caped heroine.

Her urgent tone softens. "Hey. Hey. Take it easy."

Kara can feel the detective discreetly moving her away from the scene. Towards an alley. Her back hits the bricked wall of the alley and she breathes easier. They're in the shade, Kara realizes, and she's staring back to a very concerned pair of hazel eyes.

"What do you need, Supergirl?"

"Nothing. It's- just a headache. I've got work to do."

She forces herself away from the wall and lifts away, back towards the blinding sun.

xxxx

She locks herself in the office Cat Grant gave to her, and sets off to finish compiling the facts to complete her article. Having ordered four bags of pot stickers, Kara feels like she's back to her old self. A soft chime interrupts her and she ignores it, determined to get this article done and over with. He had tortured her to wait in the slowest queue down at the city court's administrative department.

The low vibration coming from her phone startles her concentration. She hits the button, cradling the delicate device between her shoulder and the side of her head, whilst she types furiously.

"Kara Danvers speaking."

"Hey Kara, how are you? Are you still up for dinner tonight? There's a new opening of a Thai restaurant down on Fifth Avenue."

This is a call she isn't expecting and she stills her fingers at the sound of her lilting voice echoing through the tiny speakers. "Hello? Kara?"

She breathes in and exhales. Leans back into her swivel chair, ignoring its tiny protests as she puts her full weight.

"Lena, I'm good and yes, dinner is on. I mean, I would love to check out the Thai place with you."

The tiny scar crinkles as she checks her calendar hurriedly. She doesn't remember setting an appointment with Lena Luthor.

"Lovely. You can tell me more about this cousin of yours, Kara, during dinner. I'd love to hear more."

She blinks and tilts her head. "Cousin?" _Kal. How did he pop into the conversation?_ She has always been so careful about revealing anything about her family to anyone.

"I believe you mentioned his name is Kale L? I'm curious to know what the L stands for." She can hear Lena's amusement trickling in.

She's almost afraid to ask but does anyway. "When- when was this?"

Her heart lurches at the disappointing tone creeping into Lena's voice. "Last night, after I picked you up from the bar. You sure do keep interesting company, Kara... You don't remember, do you?"

 _Interesting company. The alien bar. Shit._ How long does she have before Lena - the youngest bright genius CEO - figures it all out? Alex is going to kill her.

"I- I don't. Sorry." Did she ask Lena out while she was drunk too?

"That's alright, sweetheart. I'll catch you up to speed then. But first, I must say, you tell the silliest stories when you're drunk. It's absolutely adorable."

She ducks her head and blushes, her cheeks reddening and once again, she's grateful for the privacy Ms. Grant granted her.

"I would love to chat more, but I've got a conference call in an hour. I'll see you later?"

Kara nods, forgetting that Lena is still waiting for an answer. "Yes. Talk to you soon. Bye Lena."

"Bye Kara."

xxxx

All is right as rain. Her article is printed and resting in the top tray of Snapper's desk. He grunts while checking her work. "Passable. I hope you've learned your lesson." He tosses it back and continues his work. "Now get out."

She goes after noting that the red inked pens she has come to hate, has bypassed her article. She exits the lobby with a light bounce to her steps despite the wailing sirens in the distance. A building on fire, Kara notes, hearing the panicked screams of the residents, and the frenzied stomping of those fleeing through the stairwells. She changes into her suit and zips across the city.

She lands on the roof, only to be yanked from behind by her cape and thrown into the concrete wall, denting the rooftop door in the process. A volley of green tinted darts pierces into her suit, injecting kryptonite into her system.

Kara struggles on the ground and blinks confusedly at the perpetrator.

"Hank?"

* * *

 **Little Uncle**

Lena checks her phone for the sixth time in four minutes. There's still no sign of Kara. She takes a sip of water, opting to ignore the curious looks thrown her way. Her last name has always attracted attention everywhere she goes. They're probably wondering why was she doing here instead of some fancy high-class restaurant. The waiter is heading towards her with a notepad on hand. She waves him away.

She should have chosen a spot closer to the back or the side window, but this spot grants her a clear line of sight of the entrance. It's strange. It's not like Kara to stand her up. The front door swings open and a small group walks in. Her back straightens as she scans for the adorable mess of golden blonde hair and a horn-rimmed glasses. It turns out to be a small Asian family trudging inside.

She checks her phone again. No message. It's almost eight. The TV screen flickers to live news as the waiter changes the channel. Lena hears soft gasps and catches Supergirl's name being mentioned. She turns her attention and watches in concern at the burning building up in flames. The running caption at the bottom captures her attention. In block caps, it reads: WHERE IS SUPERGIRL?

There's no sign of a flash of red and blue anywhere near the scene. Lena covers her mouth in horror as the flames ripped their way through the building, tendrils of smoke reaching desperately into the sky as if trying to escape the blazing inferno below.

Something feels wrong. Awfully wrong. Lena can feel it rattling down through her bones. She exits the restaurant and gets into her car. The last time she'd checked in with Kara, was in the afternoon. She had sounded confused, but it was understandable if Kara was terribly drunk that night and out of sorts.

Did something happen after?

It takes her double the time to reach Catco due to the road barrier condoning the public from the fire hazard. She heads to the elevators and punches the button repeatedly in an act of impatience. The doors slide open and Lena immediately hits the button for Kara's floor.

Agonizing seconds pass before the metal doors slid open once more. She crosses the threshold in quick strides, heels clicking across the smooth surface until she stops at the receptionist desk. Her knuckle knocks against the counter as she gains the attention of a mousy intern looking up at her with wide brown eyes.

"Hello. Miss Luthor. W-What can I… erm… do for you?"

Lena gives her a tight smile as she replies, "I'm looking for Kara Danvers. Is she here?"

The intern stammers and Lena watches the way her hands clutch onto the stack of papers like a shield. "Kara. S-She's… erm… I'm afraid she has already left. Do- do you want to schedule an appointment w-with… her?"

She takes pity on her, shaking her head. "No need. Do you know what time she left?"

"About two hours ago, Miss Luthor. Are you ss-sure there isn't anything I-I can help you with?"

Lena declines and heads back towards the elevators, frowning hard in contemplation. If Kara had already left Catco around six, why hadn't she turned up for the dinner date or assisted the firemen in putting out the fire?

Curiouser and curiouser.

* * *

 **National City Police Department**

It's not every night she gets a special visitor in the station. She almost missed Gotham city and then again, sometimes a quiet night is what she needs. Normalcy. However, National City has its own special brand. Aliens. Good aliens, who keep to themselves are her favorite and her not so favorite? Cadmus with high voltage prods jumping out of unidentified vehicles and kidnapping good aliens in the night.

But tonight is the most special highlight. Because a certain Luthor has dropped by to pay her a 'visit.'

 _Oh boy._

She can't help herself with a quip. She just can't. It's already on the tip of her tongue and she spills, gripping the coffee mug a little tighter. "Well, I'll be damned. If it isn't baby Luthor-"

She receives a pointed glare in return and without any preamble, Luthor straight up demands a meeting to get in touch with one Alex Danvers.

Danvers. The FBI agent. Fantastic.

She's also the agent she has been somewhat avoiding lately. This is just peachy.

"If you tell me what this is about, I might be able to set up a meeting," Maggie ventures slowly.

"I can't." The volume of Luthor's tone drops by a decibel. It's filled with professional steel and just a hint of panic. "Not here. Look, I just need ten minutes of her time. She knows where to find me."

Luthor's walking away now and she'll be damned if she lets this Luthor walk out without a clue whatsoever. She's quick on heels. Maggie gives her that as she dodges her colleagues and sharp desk corners as she chases down the youngest Luthor.

"Hey. Wait. What's this about, really? I need something - anything - if you need me to get in touch with the agent. I mean, that woman is all work and no play."

Luthor turns her body partially and stares at Maggie for a long moment. She gets this odd feeling that she's being scrutinized under a microscope.

"Tell her it's about Supergirl," she finally says and Maggie watches her go, swallowed into the crowd.


	3. Chapter 3: Two Good to be True (part 2)

A/N: Kara Danvers with Cadmus scene follows to what we watched in 2x07 (she will meet Jeremiah and Cadmus gets her blood) so I'm altering bits of the timeline here and there. If you haven't noticed, I have also changed the summary of the premise. I've decided to write a number of one-shots that can be seen as a sequel of the first piece. There will be chapter titles named clearly, so you know when the numbered ficlet ends and the new one begins. #Slowburn the pairings. Think of this as a series. Happy reading!

* * *

 _How does one get in touch with an offsite governmental agent?_

She sure as hell would like to know. Walking into the FBI headquarters would be a logistical nightmare, not to mention she would be stuck waiting in one of those uncomfortable chairs all day long twiddling thumbs while waiting for a bored desk admin to attend to her.

Hell, tracking down the Bat was far easier than finding the one prickly needle in the haystack. She just needed to turn the megawatts bat torch to shine onto the night sky and wait in the shadows for a couple of hours before the gruffed vigilante makes his appearance. No, the real question was 'how does one get in touch with Supergirl?' National City may have half the size of Metropolis, however, she's new to town which makes it a tenfold worse.

Maggie sinks into her crikey office chair with a groan, only to have Carlo Santos swings his chair around with a full blown smirk before resting his feet up on her desk. "Having girl trouble, Sawyer? How can I be of service tonight?" His brows waggle in mischief.

She rolls her eyes and barks, "Feet off my table, Santos."

"Pobrecito. Someone is snappish tonight. Must be that chick from the bar you were so hung over," he offhandedly comments as his back stretches languidly in his seat.

Click. Clack.

Maggie sends him a sidelong look and then busies herself with the stack of paperwork waiting for her in the tray on her right. She makes it through halfway before the same train of thought looms closer in the forefront.

Click. Click. Clack.

She hears the steady clicking of his ballpoint pen and looks up in annoyance. He only does this when he has something in mind that she would be opposed to. The last time nearly got her kicked out of her favorite bar, and she liked that cute bartender. The bouncer… not so much.

"What do you want?" She places the stapler down harder than she'd intended. Carlos merely glances at her with an innocent smile. "Hey, now. I'm just sitting here, minding my own business."

Click.

Clack. Click.

Click. Clack.

"No, you're not," Maggie rebuts with a scowl to his immense blinding smirk. She really wanted to lean over her desk and snatch that pen out from his hand, but with her height versus the distance from him including her desk is doubled. She'd come out short.

His back straightens and his gangly legs swivel his chair fully to face her, his expression fixed with a seriousness as he nods. There is the slightest quirk in the corner of his lips when he leans forward as if to share a whispered discussion or another half-baked theory. The shorter brunette, on the other hand, remains passively seated with folded arms locked onto each side as she stares back.

A pregnant pause later, he caves, "So did you bang the hot chick that walked in earlier?"

A sharp loose hysterical laugh escapes her lips as her body loosens its firm resolve and dissolves into mini-spasms. Some of her colleagues turn their heads around before shaking their heads. Of all the crazy whack ideas he'd had, this was hardly an XM58 she'd thought he throw her a metaphorical one.

 _Bang little Luthor?_ Oh, it was more like, the other way round but she isn't going to tell him that. She laughs so hard that her fist pounds against her chest to get some oxygen in. She fixes him a mock affronted glare instead. "How does one get in touch with Supergirl?"

He turns his back towards her and dismisses her with a wave. Maggie rolls her eyes at his childishness and scoots closer to her desk. She stretches out her leg from beneath her desk and then kicks the bottom of his chair. Hard. He yelps and glares back. Her smile stretches fully like a Cheshire cat. "I asked you a question, Sergeant."

"What's up with you tonight, Sawyer? Pulling ranks-"

She shakes her head. "Nuh-uh. Don't answer a superior with a question. Since you were so eager to assist, I'll ask again. If I wanted to get in touch with Supergirl, who do I have to call?"

Santos scratches his chin and shrugs. "I don't know. She has super hearing, right? You could just... call for her."

Maggie taps her fingers against her desk and leans back in thought. "That's…"

The screen monitor flickers alive as a cadet officer rushes into the science department and snatches the tv remote from her colleague, earning a disgruntled yell. He bends over gasping for breath, resting his hands on his waist.

"What the fucking hell-"

"Oh my god, look!"

Maggie jolts out of her chair, half-startled when the cadet just points to the screen. "Captain Lupe needs all hands on deck. We have firefighters on the scene but the fires are too out of control. He fears it m-"

"Might be the case of a meta-human arson if the fires are not letting up," Maggie finishes. She grabs her badge and keys from the drawer. She pulls the NCPD jacket off the back of her chair and says, "Alright. Santos, you're with me and you kid. Supergirl is not onsite?"

The cadet shakes his head vigorously. "No, mdm. She hasn't shown up. Reporters are marking her disappearance as MIA."

Maggie stops in her tracks. Supergirl had seemed a bit off this morning. She had chalked up of the heroine having a bad case of a morning. She isn't sure now, but duty obliges and if this was a Super-related matter… she's certain Danvers will be on scene.

xxx

Traffic was a buttload of pain, even with flashing lights and screeching wail of sirens that follow. She alights from the cruiser without so much of a warning to her partner, leaving him with the cadet, and then jogs the remaining four blocks to reach the cordoned burning building. She finds the serious agent about one and half hours later, holding her phone to her ear while looking up into the night sky. Maggie follows her gaze and her heart thunders against her ribcage at the ugly sight.

A plume of fire explodes into the blackness, the crimson flames rolling outwards like the smoke of a mushroom cloud. The idea of firefighters rushing into an inferno sounds just ludicrous. Heck, even the heat feels oppressive at two hundred yards away and three stories up. Standing anywhere closer to the yellowed tapes makes Maggie feel as though she has turned into an overcooked tart. The onlookers flinch and stagger back when fiery flames burst from the windows and send horizontal jets out ten feet or more. The louder the flames rebel against the onslaught icy jets of water shooting from all directions, the incessant yelling and shouting have grown at ground level.

All the while Supergirl remains at large.

Standing mere feet away from the agent, Maggie raises her voice, "I wasn't aware building fires were under FBI jurisdiction."

Danvers whips her head around with a quizzical expression. She mutters something into her phone and then stores the device into her back pocket of her pants. Her hand gesture at the scene as she replies, "Oh no, it's not. I'm not… I- I was just in the neighborhood."

Maggie doesn't buy it. Coincidence, it is not. She shoots back, "Looking for Supergirl?"

Danvers seems to be at a loss of words tonight, partially starting a sentence and then halting at a midpoint. "Yes. No. Well... everybody else obviously seems to be lending a hand," the agent finally answers while raising a hand to shield her face from the blinding white source of light coming from the skies. Catco reporters have taken to using their helicopters to scour for the superheroine.

"They're really going all out," Maggie comments as she watches the commotion above.

"Yeah, Catco branded her after all," Danvers replies distractedly as she fishes out the same phone from earlier and looks down at the flashing screen. "I have to take this. Sorry, umm… good luck with that."

The agent begins to walk away and she realizes her chances of getting the message out turns slimmer by the second. "Wait! Lena Luthor is looking for you," she finally spills.

Danvers freezes and turns slowly, her eyes growing wider at the mention of Luthor's name thrown in. "Whoa. What?! Wait, why is Luthor looking for me?"

Maggie shrugs. "Beats me. She stopped by the station and asked me to touch base with you regarding our mutual friend."

"Supergirl, of course," Danvers exhales a long sigh before returning a curt nod. "This is just great. Thank you, Detective. I'll take it from here."

However, the words once burst forth from her lips continues onward like a fountain. Maggie begins cautiously, "You know, I met Supergirl this morning. She seemed off of sorts."

Danvers snaps up from her phone and Maggie detects a strangled raised accent in her speech. "Off how?"

"Like the sun was making her sick. She had a momentary lapse of control which scared the burglar half to death that he surrendered on his own. I thought the Supers were like plants, photosynthesis, and all that good stuff."

* * *

 **9:30 pm, Downtown Area**

A lanky redhead dressed in black tactical garb stares long and hard at the menacing thousand window-like eyes skyscraper, before nodding her head in resignation and heads inside the front doors. The lobby is classy and has all the corporate taste for opulent items without the slightest touch of personality. The floor was tiled in fine marble which made her boots echo as she walks up to the front reception desk manned by a lone security detail. Her hand slides into her pants pocket for her badge as her finger brushes against the hidden cache behind the screen id, before bringing it up to flash for the guard.

"FBI. I'm here to talk to Miss Lena Luthor," she states.

The guard smiles like a photo, his watchful eyes remaining still while he takes down her details and checks her identification. He motions her towards the security screening and the agent nods. He picks up a phone and dials a number, speaking in low tones while she goes through the usual motions.

He escorts the redhead to the elevator and she steps inside the most pristine elevator. It had white marble walls, a blue carpet, a silver handrail, and no buttons. The guard briefly ducks in with one hand preventing the doors from closing while he flicks open a hidden cache and presses his thumb onto a small sensor. She hears a soft chime and the guard leaves her with a brisk nod. The doors slide shut and the elevator rises to the top floor without stopping.

Once the doors slide open silently, she steps out, noting the front desk is unmanned and in front of her lies the open door to Luthor's lair. Alex squares her shoulders as her hand brushes the handle of the gun sitting snugly in its holster and walks inside. Her office layout is not what she expected from what she has observed from the lobby area. While it maintains the minimalistic approach, Luthor did, however, have an elegant, geometrical taste. She notices the white couch first, the plush carpet surrounding the area with a low glass coffee table. The walls are painted in neutral soft hues and her office desk is shaped in a very modernized version of an art display.

"Agent Danvers, I see you've received my message," Luthor greets as she stands and heads towards the side counter. "Would you like a drink?"

She nods and takes the glass of amber liquid swirling as her brain runs endless calculated probabilities. Supergirl's disappearance has put her on edge and with the addition of Detective Sawyer's comment, Alex has cemented on an obvious conclusion but there isn't any conclusive evidence that links Lena Luthor to Cadmus. Yet.

Alex takes a sip and sits uncomfortably against the chair. Her brain replays the incident continuously like a broken tape recorder. She had wanted to surprise her sister but she certainly wasn't expecting to be surprised. By a sleeping Luthor. It gave way to panic and then her brain had jumped to pure instinctive mode.

"Sorry for the gun stunt. It was uncalled for," Alex affixes Luthor with a look. "You surprised me, Luthor." She breathes inwardly a sigh of relief when the memory slowly fades away.

There is a moment of tension hanging between them before Luthor presses a button and Alex turns to watch the large oak doors hiss and swing shut, leaving her with Luthor. Her hand instinctively goes for her holstered weapon. The corner of her cherry red lips tilts upward with silent mirth. "Apology accepted. Shall we move on to a more pressing issue? Now that we both acknowledged the fact that Kara Danvers and Supergirl are one and the same person."

Luthor produces a small black thumb drive and places it between them. Alex looks at it dubiously. "What is this?"

"I think I might have a lead. One of the old warehouses, which were previously owned by Luthor Corp, did a recent inventory check and perfunctory inspection. The reports mentioned a missing case of vials."

Alex waits with bated breath as Luthor pauses before continuing, "It was liquidized kryptonite but the chemical components have been broken down to its basic level and diluted with another stabilizing agent. I haven't pinpointed its molecular structure but it seems similar to glucose…"

Luthor carries on, oblivious to Alex's glazed look staring at the night view of glinting skyscrapers and the colorful twinkling lights illuminating the bridge and highways. She pulls the incident back from the recesses of her mind into the forefront. After Luthor had hurriedly left, there was a covered innocent-looking plain pink box sitting on the table. Kara woke up with a hangover which was normal. She was a lightweight; she never built up her tolerance for alcohol like she had, with years of drinking and partying during her schooling years. Kara woke up disoriented and scatterbrained, typical symptoms from a normal hangover. It was Sawyer's comment that had her spooked.

Kara never lost control - okay, she did when she first crash-landed - but the way Sawyer offhandedly mentioned Supergirl had punched a little too hard and scared a criminal that he'd rather be arrested was something else. Her brain replays the morning again and then she remembers Kara's greedy fingers reach in and pull-

Her back snaps from its slouched state and the agent suddenly sit with her back ramrod straight. "It's the canoles."

Luthor blinks at the sudden interruption and stares at her in confusion. Alex hurries to explain, "T-There was a box of them sitting on the table when I walked in. I had assumed you'd left them for her."

"No… I picked her straight from the alien bar and we headed to her apartment. Is it still in her place?"

Alex stands immediately and grabs the thumb drive. "Yeah, they should be there."

Luthor nods and follows suit. "I'm coming with you. Just let me grab my kit and then we'll go."

"Uh no, you're not. This is FBI business but thanks for this," Alex retorts, holding the thumb drive. She does, however, softens her tone. "I know you want to help. If we find anything, you'll be the first to know."

She turns to leave when she hears the steady clicking of Luthor's heels right behind her heel. The large oak doors swing open soundlessly while Luthor catches up and fixes Alex an appraised look.

"I won't take a no as an answer, FBI or not, Agent Danvers. Kara Danvers is my only friend and if she's in trouble and exposed to kryptonite synthesized by either my brother or one of his fanatics. You will need my assistance."

Alex puts up a hand. "I wish I could but protocol states-"

"Screw your protocols, Danvers. Kara doesn't have much time. The components used are incompatible and highly unstable."


End file.
